So there I was timid, scared, and to say less, I was only five years old. I did cry and a lot. But I had a huge responsibility on my weak shoulders and that too, lending it out for a person who was may be five times heavier than me. He was my world and I knew, I was his too. I saw him break, I saw his tears flood the house, I saw we were drowning slowly. So I held back my tears and held his hand. He was definitely perplexed by my new found attitude, my new found self in his young kid daughter. I had lost my mother but he had lost his love. His hope. His aspirations. His self built life. I saw him break everyday piece by piece but couldn’t do anything much. What can a five year old do anyways. When I had accepted the bitter reality of my father’s shattered dreams, one of my aunt’s suggested only I could convince him to marry again, as they had all accepted defeat. After long hours of serious conversations like adults, that too for weeks and months, finally he agreed to marry again, quoting- I don’t want a wife but mother for my child.
Hence, she entered in my life. My step mother
The entire society and family had instilled weird images about step mother already in my father’s heart and succeeded. And in mine too.
Things like, she won’t feed you, she will take care of only her kids, haven’t you seen what happens to the child when a step mother comes?, you will become your wife’s slave and throw your daughter out of the house on her command, etc etc had become common to our ears. So my father tried hard to marry the right woman and well, my father has always won.
Thanks to god, she never did any of the ill things society told she would. Yes, initially there were lot of adjustment issues as she was an outsider to the father-daughter inseparable bond. But she never tried to break it down. She strengthened it. She would bathe me, feed me, tie my hair and would sit up all night when I was sick. I yelled at her often, may be insecurities or fear, but she never seemed to leave my side. She did use rough words at times which I took very seriously then, but now when I look back, I feel too silly. She got angry because she thought she had got promoted from being a step mother to a mother. After all the rebellious acts, I fell in love with her. I always called her “amma” which meant mother, as she was and is my mother.
It is so strange, how society can influence us. Wish they had not done that, we would have accepted her without any fear but we did only after realizing how good she is. Now, sitting in Jeddah, when I miss her I message her on whatsapp (I feel really proud that she takes extreme interest in learning the new age technologies and applications, which my father doesn’t) and she replies “No yaar, things are fine”. So finally, I have become that yaar. I have become that person who messages her the most. She still irks me, we still fight and argue, but the question is which mother and daughter doesn’t? We love each other, we have accepted the relation which was artificially created so deep that we have forgotten the reality and have created our own.
Who says all step mothers are bad? Who says they are heartless and torturous?
They are like us. They also want love as much as we do. I do agree, we have seen some bad step mothers on TV but are all like them? Mine isn’t. She might not have given me birth but she is responsible for the kind of person I am today. My father has made my husband my in-charge, but my silly mother still feels bad and angry if I cry because of my husband and questions him, “How can you make MY DAUGHTER cry?” and at that moment I feel happy, proud and complete.
I didn’t wish her on this mother’s day. I have never wished her. For me every day that I live is dedicated to the woman who made my life better. She could have made it a living hell, instead she showered me with love, care, concern.
People often asked me, if I do miss my own mother and I answer proudly, I have two mothers and both love me a lot. Both are with me so I never got a chance to miss anybody.
At the end of the day, I only feel lucky in life to get the love of two mothers.
We have come a long way
laughter, fights and cry
But no matter what,
I say again, I love you amma
without you, there is no meaning to I.
I have written this post, solely to dedicate it to her and to tell her how much I love her.